No Boundaries
by Belle Walker
Summary: One Jack without his Sam; one Sam without her Jack. Two lives, two worlds...and two Daniel Jacksons who believe that real love knows no boundaries. AU, no particular season.
1. Chapter 1

The thump of his boots echoed in his own ears with every step he took. They carried him across grey floors, past grey walls, through grey doors.

The grey matched his mood. The same grey mood he'd been in for the past six months.

Ever since…

No — he didn't want to think about that. Not again. Not when he was finally beginning to heal just a little from the heartache brought by her absence.

He focused on the grey door at the end of the grey hallway, his feet crossing the open threshold and stopping at a worktable.

He picked up one of the artifacts spread out on the dusty metal surface and idly turned it over in his hands. "Nice…rock," he commented, trying not to sound as dull as he felt.

Daniel didn't bother looking up from the object in his own hand. "Hi, Jack," he murmured distractedly. Lips pursed slightly in thought, he squinted one eye and mumbled a few words to himself. With a pencil, he scribbled something onto a page of the journal open before him on the table.

"Did they, uh, get it working yet?" he asked, still concentrating on his artifact.

"Mnh." Jack gave a noncommittal grunt, neither a yes or a no.

Daniel looked over his shoulder for a moment to study the older man. "I'll take that as a 'no'," he said at length.

"They still don't know what it _is_," Jack responded in monotone. "Much less what it _does_."

Daniel turned back to the object in his hand. "Sam would figure it out," he said quietly, mostly to himself. Catching the grimace on Jack's face from the corner of his eye, he wished he hadn't spoken aloud. "Sorry."

"She's gone, Daniel," Jack replied tersely. "Not coming back." He dropped the rock heavily back onto the table.

"I know."

Daniel was silent again, and Jack's tension eased. But he didn't leave.

Jack obviously wanted something specific, but seemed reluctant to broach it.

Daniel missed the old Jack. The one with a spring in every step of his combat boots and a sarcastic quip for every occasion. He just couldn't get used to this…_slug_ that Jack had become.

Daniel took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Do you want me to take another look at it?"

Jack shrugged a shoulder. "If you wouldn't mind?" And he picked up another artifact to play with.

Daniel placed his glasses back onto his face with a sigh and rose from his chair. Seeing the object Jack now held in his hands, he froze momentarily. "Oh, Jack…I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

"Why not?" Jack questioned, casually looking it over.

"Because it's very —"

"Oops," Jack winced slightly as it came apart in his hands.

"— fragile," Daniel finished lamely. "Never mind."

"Sorry," Jack offered contritely, setting the broken pieces gingerly back onto the table.

"I've got to get a lock on my door," Daniel sighed, following Jack into the hallway.

In silence, they walked the short distance to Sam's lab — Dr. Greenberg's lab, Daniel had to correct himself. Dr. Greenberg's lab had been occupying that room for two months now, and Daniel was still having a hard time adjusting to the room's new designation.

"Hey, guys," Jack greeted the three scientists at the table with forced cheeriness. "How's it going?" As if it made a difference.

"Good," Greenberg said immediately. "Kind of. Not really," he admitted.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets to keep from breaking anything in that lab, too. "Not really?" he echoed unamused.

"Sir, I just don't think we have the right kind of resources to figure this thing out."

Jack considered that. "What do you need, then?"

"We need, uh…well…" Dr. Harrison waffled on that for a few seconds. "We need…" he sighed. "We need Colonel Carter, sir," he concluded in defeat.

"Not going to happen, Harrison," Jack answered him in a hardened tone.

"No, sir," Harrison was quick to respond.

"Not in this reality, anyway," Dr. Rothman commented offhand.

"Watch it," Jack warned.

"No, wait," Daniel looked at Rothman. "What did you just say?"

Dr. Rothman eyed Jack nervously, stumbling over his words. "I…I said…'not in this reality'. I didn't mean anything by it!"

"Jack, that's it!" Daniel exclaimed.

Jack regarded him a bit warily. "What's it?"

"This reality. The quantum mirror!" Daniel looked at Jack expectantly, as if those few words explained everything.

And suddenly, Jack did understand where Daniel was going with that. Ugh. He sighed tiredly. "Daniel, please tell me you're not thinking what I _think_ you're thinking?"

"Why not? We've got the mirror. We've used it before."

"To save Earth, not to solve a puzzle."

"So, what if this puzzle could save Earth again?"

"What?" Rothman looked back and forth between the two of them, completely lost. "What's he talking about? What are you talking about?"

Daniel explained it to him. "We could borrow Sam from another reality."

"And what makes you think one of them would even agree to it?" Jack seriously wanted to know.

Daniel shrugged. "It's Sam; why wouldn't she?"

"Daniel, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it the whole point of Alternate Realities that all Sams are not created equal? With our luck, we'd get one who wanted nothing more than to…blow us all to smithereens or something."

"Jack, that's ridiculous."

"Borrowing another Carter is ridiculous," Jack countered.

Daniel was surprised at how forcefully Jack was pushing back against his idea. Maybe some of the old Jack _was_ still in there somewhere…

In any case, Daniel wasn't letting go of his argument. It was the perfect solution; it had to work.

"Come on, Jack," he pleaded. "Don't you want to find out what that thing does, instead of just use it for a giant paperweight?"

Jack gave him a look. "Not really," he said honestly.

"Well, I do," Daniel answered stubbornly. He gave it one more small push, as if testing the limits of Jack's temper. "And if you won't use the mirror…I will."

Jack raised both eyebrows at him. "I can order you not to," he reminded evenly, though his opposition to the idea was already beginning to wane. "General does still outrank civilian, Ph-D or not."

The corner of Daniel's mouth twitched into a smirk. Jack was beginning to cave and he knew it. "Yeah, but I think history proves that argument's never really had much of an effect on me."

Jack was almost amused at that, but gave no indication. He gruffly cleared his throat, standing up straight and tall to remind the scientists — Dr. Jackson included — just who was still in charge there.

"You…stay here and focus on that…thing," he ordered to Daniel, gesturing at the mystery object on the table. "I will…go and get us a Carter."


	2. Chapter 2

Jack stowed a single handgun out of sight under his jacket. "If I don't come back, tell Teal'c he can have my stereo."

"You'll be back," Daniel answered evenly, using the tiny selector on the quantum mirror's remote control to scroll through the different realities. "This looks like a good one," he said optimistically. Peering a little closer, he added, "Looks like my artifact lab on the other side, actually. Hmm."

"Got one ready?" Jack asked, not excited in the least.

"Yep. Be careful if you run into your other self," Daniel reminded him. "Entropic cascade failure could hit at any time."

"Right." Jack faced the mirror. "Here goes nothing."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Good luck."

Jack pressed his palm to the middle of the quantum mirror, instantly transported to the place shown on the other side.

It was Daniel's lab, all right. The ceiling light was on, but Daniel wasn't in the room. A few familiar-looking rocks sat on a table, likely waiting to be catalogued.

Better shut off the mirror, Jack thought. He looked around for the remote device for this side of the mirror and found it on another table.

It was quiet and still, typical for that time of day in any reality. Not feeling the need to pull out his firearm, Jack exited the room. He made his way through the perpetually grey hallways, hooking a left here and hanging a right there.

It was close to evening, and if this Carter was anything like his Carter was, she'd be in her lab hard at work instead of relaxing at home like she should have been.

Jack stopped at one open doorway.

There she was. Sitting at her laptop, with her back to him.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked at her. He hadn't seen a sight like that in six months.

Same short blonde hair that he loved the softness of. Same girly shoulders that his hands knew the curves of so well. She was a perfect replica of his Carter.

His chest hurt…squeezed and burned. God, he missed her.

He tore his gaze away and looked back down the empty hallway, debating whether he should reveal himself and go through with Daniel's idiotic plan, or just go back home undetected and save himself the heartache of being around Samantha Carter again.

But he'd already seen her, and it was too late now to try avoiding that pain. Might as well go through with it, and get it over with.

He cleared his throat silently and stepped through the open doorway. "It's a bit late to still be working, isn't it?" he voiced nonchalantly.

Sam froze. "Jack?"

"In the flesh," he replied lightly.

Sam spun around in her chair, eyes wide in shock.

"Hey, Carter," he greeted. He didn't know why she looked so surprised to see him there. Didn't they know Jack O'Neill in this reality?

Recovering from her brief paralysis, Sam bolted from her chair and ran to the far wall, slamming her palm onto a large red button mounted at eye-level.

Her hand flew to her side, snatching the handgun from its nylon holster.

Jack took a step back in surprise.

What was the alarm for? And why was Carter pointing a gun at him?

* * * * * * *

Klaxons wailed and red lights flashed in the hallways. "Intruder in Science Lab One! Intruder in Science Lab One!" an automated voice shouted.

Daniel stopped in his tracks. Science Lab One? That was Sam's lab!

He burst into a run back down the hallway he'd just trudged up through. He swung around a corner, nearly tripping over his own feet in his hurry to get to Sam's aid.

He skidded to a stop at the open doorway of Sam's lab, not believing what his own eyes were seeing.

Six armed soldiers stood in a circle with their guns trained on someone; Daniel had expected that. What he didn't expect was _who_ they were detaining.

"Jack?!" Daniel exclaimed in disbelief.

"Daniel," the intruder answered mildly, eyeing the circle of P90s aimed at him as he stood there with his arms up in surrender. "Care to call off the militia?"

"Care to tell me who you really are?" Daniel returned evenly, not moving any closer.

"It's me. Jack O'Neill." He looked at Daniel, obviously expecting some recognition. "For cryin' out loud, Daniel, you just said my name!"

"That's impossible," Sam denied, frozen in place a small distance away with her own handgun still leveled at him. "Jack O'Neill is dead."

Oh. That explained the hostile welcome. "Guess I don't have to worry about entropic failure after all, huh?" Jack quipped dryly.

"What?" Daniel responded, raising an eyebrow.

"That proves you're not him," Sam stated confidently. "Colonel O'Neill doesn't talk science like that."

Wait, was she calling him stupid or something?

This was getting old, fast. Jack was losing patience with the situation, plus his arms were tiring from being held up in the air so long. "I'm a General, actually. And Carter explained it to me."

"Oh, did she?" Daniel echoed, playing along with this 'General' O'Neill.

"Yes, she did," Jack responded tersely. "Obviously not _that_ Sam," he added, pointing at the blonde across the room from him. "But _my_ Sam did. The one in _my_ reality."

Two bushy eyebrows raised over two blue eyes, and Daniel stuttered slightly. "Um, I'm sorry…_your reality_?"

Oy. Did they not know anything about alternate universes here? He really didn't want to have to try explaining that too.

But first things first, he needed to get out of the line of fire. "Listen, my arms are going numb here, so if you're gonna shoot me you might as well do it now. Otherwise, I'm putting my arms down."

He slowly lowered his arms, relieved that nobody actually did shoot him. "At ease," he said to the armed soldier at his left.

None of them moved.

"It was worth a try," Jack shrugged.

Sam finally took charge of the situation. "Morrison, check him for weapons," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." The soldier directly behind Jack complied, quickly patting him down. The handgun under his jacket was discovered quickly and passed over to Sam.

"It's the only one," Jack volunteered. "Promise."

"He's clean," Morrison confirmed, finishing the pat-down.

"Told ya."

"Take him to Confinement Room A-fourteen," Sam continued, still not trusting their visitor. "And call General Hammond and Doctor Fraiser."

"Yes, ma'am."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack perched sedately on the edge of the bed in the infirmary. It was a good thing he wasn't in any kind of hurry.

He'd sat bored and alone in confinement for half an hour until General Hammond showed up, then he'd been taken to see Doctor Frasier.

She poked at him, stole a blood sample, shined that darned penlight in his eyes, took an MRI of his head. But good ole Doc, she confirmed that he wasn't a clone or snakehead, or alien infiltrator or anything else, even if she couldn't prove his story about how he got there.

That part was up to him, and in a few minutes he would be escorted to the briefing room where General Hammond would finally allow him the chance to explain his presence on their base.

Two armed guards approached the infirmary now. Assuming they were coming to retrieve him, Jack stood up.

"Come with us, Sir," one of them said.

Fraiser followed too, carrying a clipboard of her findings to share with the General.

* * * * * * *

"For all intents and purposes, General…he is Jack O'Neill," Frasier said with confidence.

"You're sure about this?" Hammond prodded.

"Yes, sir. Blood tests and everything else confirm it."

Hammond accepted her findings without further question, but he didn't waste time with delayed greetings to O'Neill. "How did you get into this facility?"

"Through the quantum mirror," Jack answered simply.

"Mirror?" Carter echoed. "What mirror?"

Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "What mirror? The one in Daniel's lab, for cryin' out loud!"

Sam looked questioningly at Daniel. He only quirked an innocent eyebrow at her in return.

Jack looked at them both. "Big thing, six feet tall. Looks like a slab of rock?" He studied their faces for some indication of understanding, and realized they had no clue what he was talking about.

"You guys don't know what it's for," Jack stated flatly.

Hammond was finally beginning to look at him like he really wasn't crazy after all. "Son, this…_mirror_ you're talking about…was brought back from a mission only yesterday. Our science unit hasn't been able to examine it yet."

Jack put his face into his hands. "Daniel and his brilliant ideas…" he groaned in frustration. He wiped his hands down his face. "Look...Carter said—my Carter, mind you—that…" he paused, trying to recall the exact words she'd used in explaining it to him. "That according to quantum theory…for every possible universe, there are an infinite number of variations…"

"Diverging at every choice we make like forks in a road," this Sam finished for him, awed that she was hearing this coming from Jack O'Neill, of all people. And explained correctly, too. "A parallel universe. An alternate reality."

Jack couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Damn it, he liked this Carter too.

Sam looked around the table, getting odd looks from everyone except Jack.

"Parallel universe?" Daniel was incredulous. "Alternate reality?"

She expanded on O'Neill's words, excitement building in her voice. "The theory is that for every fork in the road, for every choice we make, a new universe branches off from that moment and becomes two. One with the one choice we made, and another with the opposite choice that we made."

Daniel was skeptical. "That's supposed to be just theoretical…"

"How else do you explain his being here?" Sam questioned logically.

Daniel tried to wrap his mind around it. "You're actually from a _different_ reality?"

Jack dropped his hands to the table in exasperation. "_Yes_, Daniel. I'm from _m__y_ reality, where you guys all know me! By the way, where is Teal'c?"

"Who?" Sam asked.

Jack waved it away. "Never mind. Now that we've got that all out of the way, General Hammond, I just need to borrow your Major Carter for a little while. That's why I'm here."

Hammond was mildly concerned. "Borrow her for what?"

Finally, he could get to the purpose of this absurd escapade he had stupidly agreed to. "One of my teams brought back a…thing…on one of their recon assignments. The shell's made of naquadah, but our scientists can't seem to figure it out."

"Then what makes you think I could?" Sam asked him.

Jack regarded the woman before him. That voice…those eyes…

He focused on those eyes, cleared his throat, and spoke a bit softer. "Because those three goons _combined_ don't have the brains of Samantha Carter."

Sam was taken aback by how much he sounded like her own Colonel O'Neill just then.

Jack sighed. "Look, you won't be in any danger and you can go back home anytime you want. I give you my word."

"Why does she have to go back with you, anyway?" Daniel wanted to know. "Why didn't you just bring the 'thing' here in the first place?"

Jack gave him a look. "And have you assume it was a weapon and shoot me for it? I think not."

"Well, you brought a _gun_," Daniel reminded him.

"With which to defend myself if you all turned out to be snakeheads."

Daniel opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a good argument to that. "Good point," he conceded.

"What makes you think I'll go back with you?" Sam asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing at all," Jack replied shortly. "It was Daniel's idea, not mine."

"Well, isn't there a Sam Carter in your reality who can figure it out?"

Jack winced visibly, and didn't respond immediately. "There used to be," he answered softly, breaking eye contact.

This Sam understood the implication. "Oh. Sorry, sir..."

This was weird. He didn't want her sympathy over losing…herself. This was just too weird, altogether.

And he still wasn't getting an answer.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Jack muttered, wiping his fingers across his eyelids wearily. "You know what? Forget I asked. In fact, forget I was ever here, and I'll just go back home and tell them no dice."

Sam was torn. Part of her wanted to go and make a new discovery and be useful again, while another part of her was almost scared stiff at the thought of being around _him_ again…even if it was a different 'him'.

Should she? _Could_ she?

"Can I think it over, sir?" she heard herself asking, looking into the warm, brown, familiar eyes across the table from her.

"Yes, Major," Hammond answered from her right, before Jack could say a word in response. "You can."

Sam had almost forgotten Hammond was even sitting at the table. He and Dr. Frasier both had been unusually quiet through the entire conference.

"Thank you, sir," she accepted. "If you'll excuse me, General…Generals," she corrected, her eyes flicking to the stars on Jack's uniform. "I'd like to turn in now, sirs. It's been a long day."

"Yes, it has," General Hammond agreed. "Dismissed." To Jack, he said, "General O'Neill, please allow me to escort you to your quarters for the night."

Sam left the briefing room without a backward glance.

Daniel ran to catch up with her. "Sam."

She slowed, allowing him to fall into step beside her. "You think I should go," she stated knowingly.

"Yes, I do."

She punched the button for the elevator. "Give me one good reason why I should."

"I'll give you three," Daniel said in a warm tone.

"I'm listening."

"You said yourself that you haven't felt very useful around here since Jack…" he stopped, cleared his throat. "Well, what better way to feel useful than by solving a puzzle that nobody else could solve?"

Sam considered that. "What's number two?" she murmured. The elevator opened, but she didn't get on it just yet.

"Number two…you always help people in need. That's who you are. And they apparently need you." He was getting to her already. He could tell.

The elevator doors closed without her.

Sam looked sideways at Daniel. "Number three?"

He gave her an affectionate smile, bumping her shoulder lightly with his. "Since when have you ever been able to say no to Jack O'Neill?"

"That's just it, Daniel," she confessed with a sigh. "He's _not_ Jack O'Neill. Not the Jack that _I_ know, anyway."

"Well…maybe he doesn't have to be," he reasoned. "Maybe he's just some guy who needs your expertise. Or…maybe this _is_ a second chance or something. Either way, you won't know unless you go."

"I don't know," Sam still quavered.

"I do," Daniel answered softly. "Go help them, Sam. Everything else will still be here when you get back."

Sam exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes for three seconds, then opened them to meet Daniel's.

On impulse, she pulled him into a friendly hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" Daniel asked, hugging her back.

"For giving me the kick in the pants that I needed."

Daniel laughed, releasing her. "Anytime."

He yawned then, realizing just how tired he was. "Ahhh, sorry. I'm gonna," he gestured a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning."

Sam smiled at his retreating back. "Goodnight."

She called the elevator back down, and got in it this time. But instead of going to her original destination—her sleeping quarters on-base—she went home to pack a bag.


	4. Chapter 4

"When I come back here," Sam addressed General O'Neill. "How will we know for sure that I get back to the right reality?"

"I'll wait for you," Daniel volunteered. "In front of our mirror. She'll be able to see me there, right?" he asked Jack.

Jack nodded.

"Then we should agree on a day and time," Sam suggested logically. "Unless you wanted to stand there all day every day until I show up again," she added lightly to Daniel.

"How long do you think it will take to figure out their device?" Hammond asked her.

"Hard to say, sir," she answered. "A few days? Maybe a week?"

Hammond nodded. "Give it a week, just to be sure."

"Yes, sir."

Daniel quickly counted ahead. "Then I guess we'll see you again next Thursday."

"High noon?" Jack quipped.

Daniel shrugged. "Sure."

"And this thing controls the mirror?" Sam examined the piece that Jack had singled out from the other artifacts laid out on Daniel's tables. "How does it work?"

"I'll show you," Jack replied, stepping a little closer to her. "Just think of it like a TV remote, with less buttons."

He took one of her hands and held it palm-up, placing the remote in the middle. "Touch that part," he instructed, pointing a finger at one small panel.

Sam glanced up at him briefly before looking at the object again and touching the surface.

The mirror came to life with a low, brief sound.

Startled, Sam's glance darted briefly to Jack and then back to the mirror.

She stepped closer to get a better look. "That's incredible," she murmured in awe, stretching her fingers toward the image that was not a mere reflection.

"Ah!" Jack grabbed her wrist before she could touch the surface. "Not so fast, Major," he chided gently. "We have to find the right place first."

"Of course. Sorry, sir," Sam apologized, drawing her hand back.

"Quite alright, Carter." He released her wrist. Still standing close beside her, he placed a hand under hers again, lifting the remote to a comfortable level.

"That's your channel-changer," he said, touching the small disc on the remote's other panel.

His shoulder brushed lightly against hers, and Sam's breath caught in her throat. He was standing awfully close, and her traitorous skin was tingling at his touch. But this wasn't her Jack and it just wasn't fair!

She had to put some distance between them. "Daniel, you want to try it?" she offered, taking a step forward and holding out the remote device to him.

"Yeah," Daniel accepted eagerly, stepping up to the mirror.

Jack cleared his throat and shuffled back a few feet, giving Daniel—and Sam, too—plenty of space.

She felt almost chilled now without the natural warmth of his being nearby. She shivered slightly, but covered by crossing her arms and shifting on her heels.

Daniel slowly scrolled through the different worlds in the mirror, and Jack took a moment to study Sam as she watched in fascination.

This was kind of weird, his teaching Sam Carter about the quantum mirror when Sam Carter was the one who'd shown him how to use it the first time.

He turned his attention back to the mirror which was changing realities faster now than before. "Whoa, Danny," he said, catching a quick glimpse of one that flashed by. "Go back one."

Daniel complied.

"Nope, one more. Ah…keep going."

With another tiny turn of the disc, Daniel had it.

"That's where we're going," Jack said confidently.

Daniel squinted at it. "How can you be sure? It looks like other ones I passed up."

"Trust me, I just know," Jack replied vaguely, trying to maintain a vain appearance of intelligence above the other man.

"But _how_?" Daniel pressed, wanting the logical explanation.

Jack sighed, letting go of his air of superiority. "Siler slopped paint on ours," he revealed simply, pointing to a small spot of white just barely visible on the surface near the bottom of the mirror. "It was turned off at the time, so the paint just dried there."

Sam knelt down to get a better look. There _was_ paint, and she was looking at the back side of it through the mirror as though it was just a clear pane of glass.

She turned to look up at Jack, curiosity evident on her face. "How come it doesn't get transferred to the other side when the mirror comes on? Since it is touching the surface?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't know, Carter. But it makes a nifty little landmark, if you know what I mean."

"It must be because paint's not an organic life-form," Sam murmured to herself thoughtfully, straightening up again.

He didn't want to hear any theories she might start babbling about that. He turned to address General Hammond. "George, it's been great to see you but time's a-wasting."

Hammond nodded solemnly. "Likewise, Jack." To Sam, he said, "Major, you have a go."

"You sure you want to come?" Jack gave her one more chance to back out.

"Um, no," she answered while actually nodding her head 'yes'. She picked up the small knapsack she'd packed at home and slung it over her shoulder.

Daniel grinned at her encouragingly. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Jack stood before the mirror, one hand held just in front of the surface as he waited for Sam to do the same. Together, they touched the mirror and were immediately transported to the other side.

Daniel's eyebrows raised in the air. "Cool."

On the other side, Jack gave one wave goodbye. Then he picked up his own remote device from a table and the mirror went blank.


	5. Chapter 5

"This is amazing," Sam marveled, looking all around as they walked through the halls of the SGC in Jack's reality. "Your walls are a little greyer, but everything else is pretty much identical."

They turned a corner, but Sam wasn't looking ahead of herself and plowed straight into someone else.

"Whoops!" A pair of hands gripped her arms to keep her from falling, and a familiar voice said her name in surprise. "Sam!"

"Daniel," Sam greeted, regaining her footing. "This is strange…I just left you behind with General Hammond not five minutes ago."

Daniel gaped at Jack, his hands falling from Sam's arms. "You really did it."

"Didn't I say I would?" Jack answered in slight annoyance.

"Yeah, I just wasn't sure that you actually…_would_."

Jack gave him an odd look, letting it go. He put a tone of formality into his voice, just because he could. "Dr. Jackson, would you mind showing Major Carter the…_thing_…while I go arrange some personal quarters for her stay with us?"

"Sure. I was just heading there myself."

"You need that?" Jack jerked his chin toward the bag on Sam's shoulder.

"No, sir," she answered, handing it to him. "Thank you."

"So, I take it Jack explained to you why you're here?" Daniel ventured conversationally, leading Sam to — ironically — Sam's old lab.

"Kind of. He just said you had some sort of 'thing' nobody could figure out."

"Yeah, I think the guys are feeling a little out of their league with this one," Daniel admitted with a grin. "Here we go," he gestured toward an open doorway, being a gentleman and letting her go through first.

"This room is my lab back home," Sam said, realizing the coincidence.

"Yeah, it was our Sam's, here…too…" Daniel answered, the words sounding a bit awkward as they came out.

"Oh. Right. Sorry," she apologized in a quieter voice.

But Daniel wasn't bothered by any faux pas on her part. "Don't worry about it," he responded diplomatically.

The inside of the room didn't look much like Sam's lab, mainly because there were three men in white science lab coats sitting around a table and staring dully at an object in the center.

"Colonel Carter!" one of them exclaimed, the look of boredom quickly leaving his face.

"Um, it's Major, actually," Sam corrected pleasantly. "Nice to meet you, Dr…?"

"Rothman," he said a bit quickly. "Robert…Rothman."

Daniel introduced the other two. "This is Caleb Greenberg, and that's Mark Harrison."

"Doctors," Sam greeted with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Major," they answered back.

"Well, this is the…_thing_, for lack of a better word," Daniel said dryly, gesturing to a medium-sized silver-colored object in the center of the table.

Sam examined the object from all angles. It was roundish, about the size of a basketball, but flat on the bottom. It had curves and angles, and a few sharp points here and there. It didn't necessarily look like a weapon, and it didn't look like just a useless sculpture either.

There appeared to be a seam running the full circumference of the object, disguised by rather stylish geometric carvings that incorporated the seam into the design.

She picked it up, noting the weight, and turned it over gently. On the bottom, something that might have been concealed hinges changed the flow of the seam slightly in two places.

Sam set the object back down and picked up a small, thin flat screwdriver. She studied the structure of the mystery object once more, then experimentally pushed the tool into the seam on the top.

"Um, are…are you sure you should…" Rothman stammered, pointing a finger at the screwdriver.

Sam ignored him, putting slightly more pressure on the screwdriver. The object popped open.

Rothman, Greenberg and Harrison all looked at each other silently, and each gave their chairs one nervous scoot backward from the table just in case it _did_ turn out to be something dangerous.

"Well, looks like you've got this one under control," Daniel commented, much less concerned than the other three. "I'll leave you to it. I'm right down the hall; just let me know if you need anything."

Rothman spoke up again, rising from his seat. "We'll just…get out of your way, too." Glad to be rid now of the pressure of solving the mystery object, he exited the room hurriedly with his two other colleagues close on his heels.

Sam shook her head at their retreat, unoffended. She worked better on her own, anyway.

* * *

After making sure a room was prepared for Major Carter, General O'Neill made the trek back to his office to get some work done.

The stacks had grown overnight. He'd been gone less than 24 hours and already there was a day's worth of new paperwork on his desk.

Jack picked up one handful and moved it to a far corner, setting the folders crookedly on another stack to keep them visually separate.

A loose sheet of paper sat uncovered on the desk blotter. A memo. He picked it up to look it over and found another one underneath.

Darn memos. He half-read the first one, only looked at the subject line of the second one, then wadded both up and tossed them into the trash.

Expecting to see a cleared spot now, he turned back to his desk.

Oh, god...there was more.

He blew out a puff of breath, picking up his previous handful of mission reports and dropping them back on top of the other memos.

He opened the report on top, filed by SG-12 and containing a painfully detailed review of their scientific findings on P4Z-blah-blah-whatever.

Jack stifled a yawn, turning the page. Dull…boring…_blurring_.

He looked away from the page, his eyes focusing properly again. Maybe he should insist on having bright yellow paper for mission reports. That might keep him awake.

He turned another page, browsing through all the science garble and picking out only keywords that he'd trained himself to look for.

Skipping to the end, he found the page that awaited his signature as acceptance of the report. But now he couldn't find his pen. He poked around the stacks of folders, coming up empty.

Jack opened the wide, shallow drawer in the middle of his desk and reached in for a new pen, but his fingers stopped short as they encountered something else.

He pulled the object out, already knowing exactly what it was without having to look. He'd been ignoring that thing for the past six months.

He opened the small velvety box, glaring at the ring inside. He should get rid of it. It wasn't like she was ever coming back to claim it.

It wasn't fair. He still ached for her; he knew he always would. Her absence was slowly killing him, and a very small part of him hated her for leaving him behind like this.

But he could never hate her. He could only love her. Or the memory of her, anyway…

His bluish-grey steel door jerked open, startling him out of his reverie.

Daniel's spectacled face appeared in the opening. "Hey, Jack." He entered the office without waiting for an invitation. "You're okay with this, right?"

"With what?"

"With having another Sam here."

Jack just looked at him. "It's a little late to be asking me that, don'tcha think?"

Daniel twitched an eyebrow and the corners of his lips, silently conceding the point. He noticed Jack had something small and black halfway concealed in his hands. "Whatcha got there?"

Jack looked down at the object in his grasp. He sighed, rolling the cube between his fingers before holding it up for Daniel to see.

Daniel realized quickly what the object was, and his heart sank in empathy as he figured who it had obviously been intended for.

"I was gonna propose to her that weekend," Jack told him, snapping the box shut. "After you guys were supposed to get back from your mission."

"Oh, Jack…" Daniel breathed sadly, dropping into a chair opposite the big metal desk. Even with the twenty-plus different languages he spoke, he couldn't come up with any words that sounded adequate to comfort his friend.

"Never got the chance." Jack tossed the little box back into the drawer and shoved it closed. He abruptly changed the subject to answer to Daniel's earlier question. "It's fine, having Other-Carter here. She'll be gone in a week…no big deal."

Daniel studied the older man with a trained eye. "You're not going to hide in here all week just to avoid her, are you?"

"I'm a busy man, in case you haven't noticed," Jack responded in a gruff tone that Daniel knew was more bluster than anything else. "Got no time to babysit. I've got…memos to read…"

"Since when do you read your memos?" Daniel quipped, trying to lighten the dreary atmosphere in the room.

"I glance at every single one that I throw away," Jack answered simply and honestly, gesturing a hand toward the small trash receptacle beside his desk.

"Right," Daniel responded, looking at the near-overflowing wastebasket. "Remind me never to leave you a note about anything that's actually _important_. Well…I'll see you later."

He stood and stepped over to the door, allowing Jack to get back to his paperwork.


	6. Chapter 6

Within an hour of sitting down at the workstation, Sam had part of the object carefully dissected. The insides consisted primarily of wiring and identifiable circuitry, and she thought she might even be able to replace one component that looked damaged.

Sitting up straight, she stretched her back and then her neck, working a kink out.

A knock sounded on the open door, and an airman stepped into the doorway. "If you're ready, ma'am, I can show you to your guest quarters."

"Thank you, airman." Sam rose from her chair and followed him out.

Her guest quarters were on the level below, in a very quiet part of the base.

Sam was a bit surprised at the size of the room, and the luxuries within it. The full-size bed with nightstand, lamp and alarm clock were standard fare in any personal quarters on-base.

The things that weren't usually included but were present in this room were the tiny refrigerator and microwave in the far corner near a table and two chairs, and the bookcase in the other corner holding a small combo TV/VCR.

Unlike the rest of the base, this floor was carpeted. A simple wardrobe stood in another corner with a fake potted tree at each side, opposite that a door which Sam discovered to be a half-bath. There was no shower or bathtub, but at least she had her own private toilet and sink.

She had a sneaking suspicion that General O'Neill had given her the base's very best VIP suite.

Sam picked up her knapsack from the table and set it on the bed, quickly emptying its contents into the wardrobe. She'd brought only civilian clothing, and only enough of that to get through one week. It wasn't likely that she'd be out in the field for anything here, but if she was…well, the base probably had plenty of BDUs to spare.

She opened the fridge curiously, finding several new-looking bottles of water but no food. She grabbed one, unscrewing the top and taking a sip.

It was still somewhat early in the day, but it didn't appear that she was expected to solve the mystery object ASAP—she did have a whole week, after all—so Sam decided to leave it until the next morning when she could approach it with fresh eyes and rested mind.

For now, she'd go see what the commissary had to offer for a hot dinner.

She hadn't been told where to find the commissary here, but many other things were the same in this reality as they were in hers, so she figured the commissary would likely be in the same place too.

She found it easily, and came through the swinging double-doors.

* * * * * *

She supposed she should have expected it. Many of these people were most likely here when the first Sam Carter was alive, too.

Still, it was a bit unnerving to be stared at by so many.

"Don't take it personally, Carter," said a voice to her left. "I guess they didn't get the memo."

She knew the owner of that voice without having to look. "What memo is that, sir?"

Jack reached past her to pick up a slice of pie. "That you were coming to visit us."

"Oh, that memo," Sam played along, following him to the only empty table in the room. "I think I missed that one, too."

"How's your room?" Jack asked politely, sticking to neutral conversation.

"It's very nice, sir. Thanks." Sam scooped a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"I would have sent for a decorator, but there just wasn't time," he added, the very slightest hint of a tease in his voice.

Sam held back a grin but her eyes sparkled in amusement. Her own Jack had had that warped sense of humor, too. "It's fine, sir," she answered firmly. "Thank you."

"Well, this brings back memories," Daniel murmured to himself, joining the duo at the table.

"What?" Jack looked at him.

"What?" Daniel echoed innocently an octave higher, unaware that Jack had heard his murmur.

As always, Jack let it go. "Have a seat, guys."

"Thanks." Daniel pulled out a chair for himself and sat down beside Sam, and the dark-skinned man with the golden ornament on his forehead did the same with the remaining chair.

"Oh, Sam, this is Teal'c," Daniel introduced her to the silent man sitting across from him. "He's Jaffa."

Sam was interested to know that. "Really? Don't all Jaffa serve the goa'uld?"

"The goa'uld are false gods," Teal'c intoned.

"That's what I say," Jack chimed in, lifting a forkful of macaroni and cheese to his mouth. "T," he shortened Teal'c's already short name to a mere letter. "You're not hungry?"

"I do not require sustenance at this time," Teal'c answered gravely.

"Suit yourself, but this mac-n-cheese is to die for."

"I will have to accept your statement about that, O'Neill."

Jack frowned at the wording. "'Take my word for it', Teal'c," he corrected.

"As I said."

Sam looked around at her tablemates…two whom she felt that she knew already, and one who was certainly a stranger to her in this world and in hers.

Glancing at Jack, she felt a pang of apprehension and homesickness. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake, coming here.

_Just focus on the project,_ she told herself. _He's not the same Jack; this isn't the same world. Just one little week, and then you can go back home._


	7. Chapter 7

Sam slept well. Better than she had for three weeks, in fact. She actually woke up rested, instead of waking up tired as usual.

After a quick breakfast in the commissary, she headed to Dr. Greenberg's lab to continue working on her project.

She was glad Greenberg wasn't in the lab; she had nothing against any of the scientists here, but she would have felt a bit conspicuous encroaching on someone else's working space when that person was present.

Engrossed in her project, she didn't notice that she had a visitor until that person spoke.

"Major Carter." The dark-skinned man with the golden symbol on his forehead stood in the middle of the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly touching both sides of the door frame. "May I enter?"

So much for having the place to herself. Sam put a smile on her face. "Sure…come on in. It's Teal'c, right?"

"That is correct." He stood tall and straight at the other side of the table, his arms bent at the elbow and resting behind his back, much like a soldier's stance. "Have you identified the purpose of this object?"

Wow, he didn't beat around the bush, did he?

"I think I'm making some headway," she replied vaguely, trying not to take his question as a hint to work harder on it.

Teal'c didn't respond. That man was very quiet. Silent, in fact. It was a bit unnerving.

Sam tried to spark another conversation. "So…you knew the other Sam Carter, didn't you?"

"Indeed."

"What was she like?" Sam queried.

"She was a great warrior," he answered solemnly but with pride in his voice. "She was a loyal friend."

That was nice to hear, but Sam wanted to know a little bit more. "What happened to her?"

"I do not wish to discuss it." The tone was firm but not unkind.

Sam's eyes flicked to his stone-faced expression. "Right. I'm sorry."

More silence. It was best to change the subject at that point, so Sam did just that. "Do you guys have zat guns here?"

"For what reason do you inquire?"

Sam gestured a hand toward the pieces spread before her. "If you've got one to spare, I think I could use some parts from it to replace these broken elements."

Teal'c accepted her answer. "I will bring you one." He left the room, returning minutes later with one operational zat gun.

"Thank you," Sam said, accepting the weapon from him.

He bowed the upper half of his body toward her. "I will leave you now." And he was gone.

* * * * * *

Jack O'Neill was distracted. Not by his own thoughts, but by the thoughts of many of the other people on the base.

The popular topic of conversation: a certain blonde scientist who had popped up out of nowhere and taken over Dr. Greenberg's lab.

Jack had heard snippets of conversation here and there. "…spitting image…just like her…think she'll stay?" and similar things.

He tried to block it out. Tried to forget she was there. It didn't work.

If it had worked, he wouldn't have found himself standing in the doorway watching her tinker away on their big fancy paperweight.

He sauntered into the room, coming to a stop at her table. "Performing an autopsy?" he quipped, looking at the array of parts laid out.

Sam looked up, and smiled pleasantly at her visitor. "Don't worry, sir…I can put it all back together."

"I have faith in you, Major," Jack answered, unconcerned. "What's this?" he picked up a round black object that somewhat resembled a baseball.

Sam looked up to see what he was talking about. "Ooh, uh…that's…" she carefully removed it from his grasp. "Something I'll need again later, sir."

Jack watched her set it back down softly onto the table. "Don't trust me, Carter?"

She gave him a cheeky grin. "If you're looking for things to break, sir, Daniel's lab is down the hall."

Jack feigned offense. "I come to see if you need anything, and I get accused of sabotage? See if I jump realities for _you_ again."

Where did that dull gloominess from yesterday go? His cheerful mood right now was so random and unexpected that Sam couldn't help the genuine laugh that burst forth.

The smile slid from Jack's face. "I've missed that."

"What?"

"Carter's laugh."

"Oh." Sam looked away, unsure of what to say to that. "I miss his sarcasm," she volunteered in reference to her Jack O'Neill.

"I miss her techno-babbling," Jack confided.

"I miss…everything," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah." Jack cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So…you need anything? Coffee? Lackeys? Valium?"

"I'm fine, sir," she answered with another smile. "Thank you."

Jack nodded. He looked around at the room, idly tapping the tips of his fingers on the tabletop.

"Mind if I observe?" he asked, gesturing to the work she was doing. "Promise I won't touch anything."

Sam was surprised by his request. Her Jack would have been bored to tears watching that sort of scientific work be done.

"Not at all," she responded, welcoming his company. "Actually, since you're here, maybe you could hold this panel open for me."

"Sure." Jack bent over the table toward the object sitting between himself and Sam.

She pulled on a small panel on the side nearest herself, and Jack held it open so she could use both hands to work inside.

"I was wondering," Sam ventured curiously, poking a tool inside the object. "Did my father agree to be a Tok'ra host in this reality?"

"Jacob? Yeah. Did he not, in your world?"

She shook her head. "I asked him to, to cure his cancer, but he refused."

"Well…Jacob's alive and well here," Jack told her a bit cautiously. "Well, not here as in _Earth_…he lives on the Tok'ra planet."

"Really?"

"Yep. Even plays ambassador for us every now and then," Jack answered. "Great guy. A bit stubborn, though. You know…a typical Carter," he added with a playful grin.

Sam grinned back. "Funny, that's what I've heard about O'Neills."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Touché."

* * * * * *

Daniel strolled down the hallway, his attention divided between the printout in his hands and the few people he avoided running into.

He passed the room Sam was using for her work lab, and something out of the corner of his eye caught his full attention.

Daniel froze mid-step, then backed up a couple of feet. The scene he viewed from the doorway of Sam's lab both shocked and warmed him.

There was Sam, working on her project. But there was also Jack, who appeared to actually be assisting her.

Sam was talking, smiling, laughing. The strange part was…so was Jack.

A smile stretched slowly across Daniel's own face. He moved to continue on down the hallway, glancing back only once.


	8. Chapter 8

"For the love of—!" Daniel smacked a hand against his computer's heavy and obsolete monitor, frustrated with the squiggly lines distorting the image on the screen. "Piece of junk…"

He glared at it. Pathetic thing was clearly on its last leg and begging to be put out of its misery. Where was a Zat gun when you needed one?

Oh, things were going just splendidly this morning. First a coffeepot malfunction at home, then a flat tire making him late to work, and now uncooperative equipment foolishly trying his patience.

Daniel sighed, punching the power button to turn the monitor off. He leaned back in his desk chair, swaying it leisurely from side to side for a moment.

Then he got up, approaching a bookcase to look for one of his equipment request forms. But he must have used them up, because he couldn't find any more.

He could have printed a new one, if the computer would just let him see the screen. Darn it, he was going to have to write it out by hand.

* * * * * *

Daniel poked his head inside the door, interrupting Sam's work. "Hey…has Jack been by here?"

She shook her head. "No…why?"

"Oh, I just need him to sign off an equipment request," he answered. "He's not in his office…I thought he might be here."

"I haven't seen him today. Sorry."

"I guess I can find him later…" he decided. He looked at the mystery object that Sam had started to put back together. "Need a hand?"

"Well, not really," Sam answered honestly. "I have to put everything back in piece by piece, and in the right order."

"Gotcha."

"You could stay and watch if you want," she offered instead. "I can't guarantee it'll be exciting, though."

He shrugged, having nothing better to do at the moment, anyway. "Okay."

He watched in silence for five and a half minutes, then couldn't handle the quiet any longer.

"So…Sam," he began casually, hoping to score a few tidbits of useful information.

"So…Daniel," she mimicked lightly.

He chuckled at that. "In your reality…did you and Jack ever get together? As a couple?"

Sam's stomach clenched. She should have expected that he would ask sooner or later. She didn't know this Daniel very well, but she knew the one back home and he usually liked to pry.

"We almost did," she answered quietly, evenly so as not to betray her inner emotions with her voice.

"Almost?" he repeated curiously. Then it occurred to him that she might not want to chat. "I'm sorry; if you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

Sam _didn't_ want to talk about it. She didn't want to _think_ about it, much less relive what happened by telling someone else.

When she didn't respond, Daniel inwardly cursed his insensitivity. "Sorry," he said again gently, focusing back on the tabled object between them.

A long moment of silence passed, and then Sam spoke again softly. "We had one date three weeks ago."

She didn't elaborate, so Daniel said, "Oh. A good one?"

"Yeah." She glanced at him briefly, with a sad smile on her face. "We rented a movie, ordered a pizza, and stayed in at my place."

"What happened? Military rules get in the way?"

She wished he would stop the questioning, but if he was anything like her Daniel, he wouldn't stop until he had the whole story.

"Not exactly," she said in answer to his question. "We wanted to take things slow, so Jack didn't spend the night." Sam paused, feeling the threat of tears pricking her eyes. "A drunk—"

She choked back a sudden sob. "I'm sorry, Daniel." She stood quickly, avoiding his gaze. "I can't do this right now." And without further explanation, she fled the room.

_Stupid_, Daniel mentally berated himself. She was upset now, thanks to him. He wasn't sure exactly what he'd said, but he figured he'd better try to fix it.

What a rotten day.

* * * * * *

Daniel knocked gently on the door to her guest quarters. "Sam?" he called through the windowless grey-blue door.

No answer, no sound from inside. Maybe she wasn't in there.

He knocked once more, then hesitantly tried the doorknob. It wasn't locked. He opened it just the teeniest bit. "Sam?"

She was sitting on the bed, cross-legged. Red-rimmed eyes glared at him as he opened the door further. "My Daniel doesn't take a hint either," she accused mildly.

He ignored that, closing the door behind him and taking a tentative step toward her. She didn't protest as he sat next to her on the bed.

He looked down at his hands, threaded his fingers together, pulled them back apart. "I didn't mean to upset you," he said gently. "I just wanted to understand your world."

Sam sniffled. "I know, Daniel. I just…miss him so much," she whispered.

Daniel was more than concerned for her now. "Sam…what happened with your Jack?"

She drew a long breath and scrubbed at the moisture on her face. "A drunk driver," she answered when her voice was steady enough again. "They hit his truck as he was driving home after our date that night. The police said he probably didn't even see it coming."

Daniel didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing. It hadn't occurred to him that the Jack O'Neill in her reality could be dead. And the Jack in his reality who'd brought this Sam back with him simply had not mentioned it.

Sam sniffled. "It's just really hard for me to be here, to be around _him_, knowing he's not the same man I fell in love with."

Daniel hung his head. "It's my fault that you're here. I was the one who insisted we should recruit another Sam Carter to help us. I didn't think about how it might affect you…I'm sorry."

Sam smiled through her tears. "You couldn't have known."

"Yeah..."

She took a cleansing breath and wiped the last tear away. "Well, since we're ripping open wounds here," she said wryly but without further malice. "Tell me about your Colonel Carter."

Daniel gave her a rueful smile. "Okay, well…my Colonel Carter…wasn't actually a Colonel anymore. She gave up her Air Force commission so she and Jack could be together, but she stayed on here as a civilian scientist because she wasn't ready to give up the Stargate program."

"But people still refer to her as Colonel," Sam contradicted. "Even now, when she's…."

"Gone?" Daniel supplied. "Yeah, that's mostly out of habit, I think. And maybe as respect for what she gave up. I dunno, really. To me, she's always been just 'Sam'."

"Anyway," he continued. "My Sam and Jack were almost _ridiculously_ happy together. They'd been dating officially for about a year…and unofficially, practically since they first met."

"How did she…?" Sam trailed off, somewhat uncomfortable with using the word 'die'.

"We lost her in an ambush off-world about six months ago." He sucked in a breath and held it for a second. "I miss her every day, but I work to keep my mind off it. Jack's pretty much done the opposite; he's been kind of like a slug. I think he's doing better now, but I still can't seem to get him interested in much of anything anymore."

"Can't say I blame him," Sam agreed knowingly. "I haven't really felt very useful in my world lately, either."

"Then maybe it's _not_ such a bad thing that you're here helping us, huh?" Daniel ventured with a little smile of hope.

Sam shrugged a shoulder. Daniel bumped it playfully with his own. Sam rolled her eyes. "I guess so," she finally allowed.

"Okay." Daniel glanced briefly at the door. "Well…now that I've harassed you twice in one day, I guess I should leave you alone now."

"Or we could go back to the 'thing'," Sam suggested with a forgiving look.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Just give me a few minutes first." She wanted to wash the tears from her face and calm the redness in her eyes before making a reappearance.

Daniel smiled in understanding. "You bet."


	9. Chapter 9

She carefully tightened one more thing, then set her pliers down. "Well, here goes…" She gently pushed both halves together to close the opening.

It closed with a quiet snap. A soft yellow glow appeared in the top surface, indicating that some kind of power was active.

Daniel raised both eyebrows. "You got it working."

"So far, maybe," Sam conceded with a half-smile, not wanting to get her own hopes up just yet.

"But what does it _do_?" Daniel prodded.

"Don't know yet." Sam looked it over again, running her finger lightly over three small triangular bumps that she had noticed before. "I don't see any—"

She stopped mid-sentence as the air around the object suddenly appeared to ripple. All at once the device vanished, along with the table it was sitting on.

Daniel gaped at the void. "What'd you do?"

Sam looked at him wide-eyed, at a loss for words.

"Where did it _go_?" Daniel voiced again, looking around them in concern.

Sam frowned at the empty space, contemplating. She stretched her hand out to where the top of the table should have been. "Ow!" she said in surprise, pulling her hand back from the area.

"What?"

"It's still there," Sam answered, her voice filled with awe. "It poked me."

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Intrigued, she reached back to the empty space. The cold, solid form of the object was indeed there, though her eyes could see only the lack of it.

She found the three triangular bumps again. The air rippled once more, and the object and table both reappeared.

Sam and Daniel looked at each other in amazement. "A cloaking device!" they said together.

"Holy Hannah," Sam breathed, examining the piece a bit closer again. "It must cloak whatever it's sitting on—that's why the table disappeared too."

And like two children with a brand-new toy, they decided to experiment.

Daniel used it on a chair. Sam tried it on a file cabinet. Both tests were successful.

"Would it work on the wall?" Daniel asked curiously.

Sam shrugged. "Let's see." She held the flat bottom against one wall and turned on the cloak.

Sure enough, the area of wall immediately around the device began to appear transparent. It wavered for a few seconds, and then the wall became solid again.

"It can't. It must be trying to cloak the whole connected structure," Sam's mind calculated. "Walls, floor, and ceiling…but it's too large of an expanse to cover this whole base."

"So we can't hide Cheyenne Mountain?" Daniel deduced.

"Basically."

Sam set it again on the table they had first made disappear. She activated the cloak, waited a few seconds, and then lifted the invisible device back off the table.

The connection severed, both objects reappeared.

She set it back down, but the connection did not restore itself. So she touched the activation spot again, and the device and table both vanished again.

"Looks like it wasn't a fluke," Sam stated, turning the cloak back off.

Daniel looked at the cloaking device in contemplation. "I wonder…" He picked it up and held it in his arms, resting the flat bottom against his chest.

He raised an eyebrow at Sam with an adventurous look in his eye. He touched the activation spot, and vanished from sight in a ripple of air.

"Daniel?" Sam called in a tone of concern.

"Right here," his disembodied voice said.

Sam reached out to the air directly in front of her face, her hand connecting abruptly with skin.

"Ow. That was my nose, Sam."

"Sorry," she apologized in a giggle. "I can't see you; can you see anything?"

"Yeah, I can see everything." A stool jumped across the floor with a loud screech. "Except for that thing I just tripped on," Daniel added sheepishly. He touched the spot on the device to make himself visible again.

Sam eyed the device greedily, enthralled with their discovery. "My turn."

Daniel handed it to her. She held it in her arms and touched the activation spot, vanishing the same way Daniel had.

"Ow," Daniel said once more, feeling a poke in the middle of his back mere seconds later. "I know you can see me this time, Sam," he accused loudly.

"Yes, I can," Sam agreed impishly, reappearing behind him. "This thing is amazing."

She set it back down on the table, and picked up a phone to call General O'Neill down to see their discovery.

* * * * * *

"And you thought it would take a week," Jack said with a grin on his face and pride in his voice. "Good job."

"Thank you, sir." Sam grinned almost shyly. "I can't even begin to list the possibilities this kind of technology opens up for us, sir."

Jack feigned surprise. "You mean other than magic tricks with tables?"

Sam couldn't help a small smile at that. "This one is compact enough to be considered portable," she explained. "Imagine if you had one even smaller…one that fit in your pocket or the palm of your hand. You could be invisible just by holding it."

"Stealth technology," Teal'c voiced. "There are a number of goa'uld who possess it."

"Well, this doesn't look very pocket-friendly," Jack said obviously.

"It's probably meant to conceal bigger things, sir," Sam explained. "Like a cache of weapons, or even spacecraft if it's small enough."

"Small enough?" Jack echoed. Usually with spacecraft, the bigger, the better.

"So the cloak can cover the entire structure," she clarified. "We tried it on a wall, but apparently it couldn't process the entire network of connected walls, ceilings and floors that make up this whole building."

"Ah." That made enough sense to Jack. "But it could cloak a smaller building or maybe a Puddle Jumper?" he wanted to confirm.

"Yes, sir, I believe it could."

An idea popped into Jack's head as he looked at the cloaking device again. "Major Carter…how would you like to take a little field trip?"

An spark of anticipation appeared in Sam's eyes. "Sir?"

"Well, turns out you've still got three and a half days here, and we just happen to have a small piece of aircraft on the Beta Site that might accommodate some alien stealth technology." He smiled at her, dangling that proverbial carrot. "Whaddaya say? "

Sam smiled back, pleased with the invitation. "I would love to, sir."


	10. Chapter 10

Standing on the ramp leading up to the gate, Sam regarded the shimmering blue event horizon with trepidation. She'd been through that thing fearlessly countless times before, but now something held her back.

"You okay?" Daniel asked, noticing her hesitation.

She mentally shook herself. "Yeah."

At his lingering gaze, she explained, "I just haven't gone offworld since my Jack…you know."

Daniel understood. "Oh."

He gave her an encouraging if somewhat teasing smile, gesturing to the P90 clipped to the front of her borrowed BDUs. "Well, if you get into trouble, just remember: safety off, point and shoot."

She sent him a mock glare. "It hasn't been _that_ long."

Daniel laughed. "You'll be fine." He glanced over his shoulder as the members of SG-9 and a few tagalong scientists moved around them to go through the stargate.

"After you," he said gentlemanly, allowing Sam to step through ahead of him.

In the observation room above, Jack watched them disappear into the wormhole. He almost wished he'd decided to go with them.

But the General of the SGC wasn't really needed on the Beta Site when it was just a standard science geek outing.

Besides, he'd been trying to keep contact with _her_ to a minimum, and accompanying her offworld wasn't exactly the best way to avoid her.

He was such a hypocrite.

He'd spent two full hours just the other day helping her fiddle with the cloaking device puzzle, and to his chagrin he realized he'd enjoyed that time with her far more than he should have.

Therein lied the problem. This was not _his_ Sam Carter that he was already getting attached to despite his effort to stay away.

Was his attraction to this woman simply a confirmation of his undying love for Samantha Carter…or was it a betrayal to the memory of the 'real' Sam?

Whatever it was, it definitely kicked him off balance. He didn't like that feeling, but he wasn't exactly sure that he hated it either.

* * * * *

Sam felt a little bit guilty tuning out the chatter of the other two people as the three of them worked together to integrate the cloaking device with the spacecraft's operational systems.

Sure, Daniel and Rothman were pleasant company…but they were no Jack O'Neill. And even though this Jack wasn't _her_ Jack, she still couldn't help missing him anyway.

Her week in this reality was half over already. It was kind of funny, Sam thought. When she'd first arrived there, she had looked forward to the week passing by so she could go back home.

Now she wasn't all that eager to get back to her own reality. She almost wished she didn't have to go back.

She finished the installation of the cloaking device, her own thoughts pushed aside as Daniel's voice filtered to her ears once more.

"So then I said, 'Well why don't _you_ try'—" he broke off abruptly, tilting an ear toward the open end of the craft and listening intently. "You guys hear that?"

"What?" Rothman voiced, listening for any sound.

Sam heard it too. "Gliders." She'd unclipped her P90 from her uniform and set it aside while working on the cloaking device installation, but now she grabbed it and darted outside to join SG-9 in defending the area.

"Gliders, as in _death_ gliders?" Rothman tensed visibly.

"Yep," Daniel responded, quickly following Sam with his own weapon drawn.

* * * * * *

Bored and restless with nobody to annoy, Jack O'Neill meandered back to the observation deck above the gateroom. Every now and then he liked to gaze at the idle stargate as he mulled over the thoughts in his head.

Sergeant Walter Harriman sat at the controls, poised as always to control the gate's operations.

The gate chose that very moment to spring to life, its chevrons lighting up rapidly.

"Unscheduled offworld activation!" Harriman shouted. "It's the Beta Site, sir."

"Open the iris," Jack commanded.

Harriman complied, and the iris spun open.

Two figures came through quickly, one of them clearly supporting the other. "Close the iris!" hollered the one providing the support.

"God damn it!" Jack swore, recognizing the injured one immediately. "Get Frasier down there!" he barked at Walter before running out of the observation room, down the steps and into the gateroom.

He reached them just as they collapsed together at the bottom of the ramp. "What happened?" he demanded, catching the injured one in his arms just before she hit the ground.

"Death gliders," Dr. Rothman gasped, grateful to be relieved of the weight of the person he'd practically dragged through the 'gate. "Two of 'em. We took 'em out but they sure went down with a fight!"

Held stiffly in Jack's arms, Sam gasped in pain and her eyes clenched shut as she held onto her own side with both hands.

Jack could only stare at the blast wound on her side, his throat going dry at the sight of it. It was his personal nightmare all over again. The memory of his own Sam flashed before his eyes, struck down in that ambush and Jack powerless to help her.

Out of nowhere, Dr. Frasier appeared now, pushing past Jack and shouting orders as Sam was pulled from his grasp.

Rothman stood up unsteadily to follow as Sam was taken away on a stretcher. "We need to get a medical team back there, sir. Others were hit too, but she just couldn't wait!"

Jack then noticed the bloody gash on Rothman's sleeve. "Get yourself taken care of too. And then I want a debriefing as soon as you're done."

Rothman didn't really expect anything less.

* * * * * *

Jack kept a respectful distance from the mouth of the infirmary. The last thing he needed to do was get underfoot while Dr. Frasier and her nurse tended to their two patients.

Rothman sat on one of the beds, his arm getting bandaged by the nurse. Sedated against the pain, Sam laid on another bed with the curtain drawn partway for privacy.

Jack stood like a statue, his unblinking focus planted on that white curtain Dr. Frasier worked behind.

Around the curtain, Dr. Frasier cast a concerned eye at General O'Neill as she carefully bandaged up the wound on Major Carter's side. Janet had only ever seen that particular expression on the General's face one time before…and that was when they'd lost the first Samantha Carter.

The memory chilled her to the bone. It had been horrifying for all of them, but especially for the General. Janet didn't think she'd ever forget the devastation and anger warring on Jack O'Neill's face as they finally accepted the futility of trying to revive Sam's already lifeless body.

Jack had gone AWOL for three days afterward, resurfacing only to attend the memorial service for Sam and the others who'd fallen in the battle. Then he disappeared again, on official leave that time, and two weeks later returned to the SGC a very changed man. Pained. Haunted. A shell.

"That's what he was like when I first met him," Daniel had told her then. "When they brought him in to oversee our work on deciphering the Stargate. None of us knew it at the time, but he'd just lost his son right before that."

Well, he wasn't going to lose this Sam too, Janet thought to herself as she placed the last strip of bandage tape over the edge of the gauze. This Sam would be just fine.


	11. Chapter 11

Daniel came back from the Beta Site with the medical team and the rest of the injured personnel. He would have liked to rest, but instead chose to support Rothman in the impromptu debriefing that Jack had demanded.

"We had just got the device installed when the death gliders appeared," Dr. Rothman recounted the events of the attack.

"It works, by the way," Daniel put in, referring to the cloaking device.

But Jack couldn't have cared less about the cloaking device or the aircraft.

"They fired on us," Rothman continued. "SG-Nine took out one glider, and held the other one off long enough for me to dial Earth. Umm," he paused, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "I saw the second one go down right before we went through the gate. I…I don't know what else happened after that…"

Daniel picked up where Rothman trailed off. "After that, we had to clean up the mess and keep watch for another attack. But nothing else came."

"Who sent the gliders?"

"We don't know. The jaffa pilots were both dead from crashing into the ground, and Teal'c couldn't identify the marks on their gliders or their armor."

"Is…is Major Carter going to be okay?" Rothman couldn't help asking a bit anxiously.

She'd better, Jack answered silently in his own mind. Out loud, he reported, "Doc says she'll pull through."

Rothman looked a little relieved.

"That'll be all," Jack ended their debriefing. "Dismissed."

Daniel remained seated while his colleague pushed his chair back and stood to leave.

"Rothman," Jack called at the scientist's retreating form.

He paused, turning back. "Sir?"

Jack's tone softened a little. "Good job getting her out of there."

It was small comfort. Rothman nodded. "Yes, sir." He exited the room.

Jack exhaled somewhat loudly, staring down at the table. "I should have been there."

Daniel looked at him. "It wouldn't have made a difference. You couldn't have prevented the attack."

"I gave my word that she wouldn't be in any danger here."

"Jack, you couldn't have known!" He adjusted his glasses over his nose and licked his dry lips. "Look…Sam's a fighter. You know that. And she knew the risk when she agreed to come here."

"She came here because I asked her to," Jack reminded him.

"Well, if you need someone to blame for this, then blame me," Daniel said stubbornly. "Because I'm the one who wanted you to bring her here in the first place."

Jack didn't respond to that.

Daniel sighed. "I'm gonna go see her. Are you coming?"

Jack still remained silent.

"Fine. But don't stay in here pouting." Angry, Daniel left.

* * * * * * *

"I'll let you out of here only if you promise me you'll get _bedrest_," Dr. Frasier said before discharging Sam.

"I will," Sam agreed easily. Lying flat on her back and not moving a muscle sounded pretty good to her right about now.

Janet gave Daniel a firm look as he appeared at Sam's side. "See that she does," she ordered briskly.

"She's letting you out already?" Daniel asked in surprise. He thought she'd be confined to one of Frasier's uncomfortable cots for at least the night.

Sam looked around at the other injured ones who'd come back from the Beta Site. "I guess she needs the room," she answered, getting off the cot slowly. She hissed as the movement affected her injured side.

Daniel winced for her. "Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere," Sam exaggerated with a grin. "Janet gave me a painkiller and sedative. I'll be fine. It looked worse than it actually was."

"Well, I'll walk you to your room anyway, just in case," Daniel offered gallantly.

"Thanks."

He strolled slowly at her side, and a sudden thought made him chuckle out loud.

"What's so funny?"

Daniel grinned at her. "I think Rothman's got a crush on you."

"What?" Sam gave him a sideways look. "He does not."

"He was making cow eyes at you when you were installing the cloaking device."

Sam stared at him to see if he was just teasing.

He simply raised an eyebrow at her, the smirk on his face only confirming his words.

She scoffed. "Great."

Daniel laughed at her. "He did get you through the gate in record time."

She gave him a half-hearted punch in the shoulder. "Shut up."


	12. Chapter 12

Sam lay motionless on top of the bed's blankets, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Her side still throbbed but it wasn't unbearable anymore. She hoped it wouldn't leave behind any scarring.

She turned her head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand, realizing she'd slept in pretty late. It was already ten-thirty.

Sam figured she should get up and put some clean clothes on. Somebody might come to check on her sometime today, and she didn't want the embarrassment of showing off her disheveled appearance.

She carefully swung her legs over to the side of the bed, stood and shuffled to the wardrobe.

Stripping off her dirty clothes from yesterday and putting on clean ones wasn't too horribly painful, and she got through it as quickly as possible.

Now Sam looked down at her feet in contemplation. That's where the problem was.

Obviously, she hadn't thought ahead very well when she kicked off her boots last night before going to sleep still dressed in her BDUs. For the first time, she cursed her long legs.

Those were yesterday's socks on her feet. She could have easily pulled them off with her toes, but how would she get new ones onto her feet without actually bending?

She could just forget the boots and walk in sock-clad feet on the carpeted floor…but she might need to leave her room at some point too, and there was no way she was going out of that room with just slippery socks on concrete floors. Or worse—barefoot.

Well, she could live with yesterday's socks still on her feet today. She just had to get her feet back into her boots somehow.

The boots were on the floor by her bed. If she could lay back down and reach over for them, she might be able to grab them without actually bending her middle and further aggravating her wound.

She tried it, and grabbed both boots at once. She made quick work of untying the laces and loosening them to make ample room for her feet. Then she dropped them back onto the floor and stood up.

Hanging onto the back of a chair for balance, she managed to stiffly work her feet into her boots little by little. Pleased, she admired her accomplishment.

Oh, but there was still a problem…she couldn't tie the laces.

She sighed in defeat, sitting down on the chair to rest.

A soft knock sounded on her closed door. Sam looked at it guardedly, hoping it wasn't Rothman as she recalled Daniel's teasing her last night about his supposed crush.

"Carter…it's me."

Okay, not Rothman.

"Come in," she called back.

The door opened and Jack O'Neill stepped inside. He left the door open, choosing to stand there with his hand still on the knob.

"How's the side?" he questioned softly.

"It's been better, sir. I managed to get my boots on, but uh…" Sam gestured a hand down at her feet. "Can't seem to reach the laces."

Letting go of the door, Jack stepped around the table to stand before the chair Sam was sitting on. Wordlessly, he knelt at her feet.

He picked up one booted foot, propped it up on his knee, and proceeded to tie the laces for her. He set that foot down gently and picked up the other one, doing the same.

Finished with the brief task, he lingered there with one hand resting on the top of her foot which was still on his knee. He looked up at her, not bothering to mask the guilt on his face. "I need to apologize, Carter."

"It's not your fault, sir," Sam protested immediately.

He squeezed her booted foot once almost affectionately before putting it down and lifting himself back up off the floor. He poked his hands into his pockets, as he often did when he didn't know what else to do with them.

"Sam," he used her first name in a tender tone, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her. "I gave you my word that you wouldn't be in any danger here, and then I failed to uphold that promise."

"Jack…" she dispensed with the formalities as well. "You didn't do this. The goa'uld did."

He gave her a long silent look, his hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. "I already lost one Sam," he said quietly, his eyes filled with emotion. "I'm not in a hurry to lose another."

Sam gazed steadily back at him. How many times had her Jack comforted her with a loving embrace when she needed it? Well, she'd lost count. But she figured it was a pretty good bet that that's what this Jack needed right now too.

She rose from the chair, holding one hand out to him. "Come here."

He took one small step toward her, pulling his hands from his pockets. But he was afraid to touch her, afraid to hurt her more by even coming close to her injury.

She put her arms around him anyway, ignoring the pain, and he hesitated only for a second before his arms slid around her.

A hug from Samantha Carter was always more healing than any bandaid. This was what he needed. He breathed deeply, tightening his hold and resting his chin on her shoulder.

Sam held on to him too, unwilling to let go. She understood his pain all too well. She'd lived the horror herself of knowing she'd never see her Jack O'Neill alive ever again.

* * * * * * * *

"You sure you don't mind my being here?" Jack asked as he moved a red checker to a new square.

"I don't mind at all," Sam answered honestly. True, she'd been sort of nervous at first about spending the one-on-one time with him during her recovery, knowing what she knew from Daniel about what he'd gone through when the first Sam had died in a similar ambush off-world.

But now she preferred his presence to the silence that surrounded her when she was by herself. "It's nice to have the company."

"Gets a bit lonely in here?" Jack asked understandingly.

"Yeah." She didn't say it, but it wasn't really the company in general that she appreciated. The difference was that it was _his_ company. And if she let herself, she could almost pretend that she was sitting across from _her_ Jack O'Neill.

Keeping that idea strictly to herself, she conquered another one of his pieces.

Jack frowned at the board. "You're getting too good at this game."

Sam smiled. "I've always been good at this game."

"Hmm." He studied the board like it was a mapped-out battleground…with a battle that he was quickly losing.

No matter which piece he moved, it would still be right into the line of fire. "Agh. I forfeit," he conceded defeat, moving a red checker and then grabbing Sam's black one to jump over it. He captured the rest of his own pieces the same way. "Good game, Major."

Sam couldn't stop the smile that graced her face as she regarded him from across the table. "Play another?" she offered, reaching for a handful of checkers to set up the board again.

"Actually, I have a briefing in…" Jack checked his wristwatch, tapping at the face as if to question the accuracy of its time. "…five minutes."

"Oh," Sam said, disappointed.

"Take a rain check?" he offered, noticing her disappointment.

"Sure."

The game box was closer to Sam than it was to him, so Jack let her put the pieces back into it.

He stacked up a small tower of checkers and laid them into Sam's upturned hand. His fingertips brushed along hers as he let go of the plastic pieces, and he hesitated for just a moment before slowly drawing his hand away.

The contact had been brief, but it affected both of them nonetheless. Jack's heart skipped a beat, and Sam's breath hitched in her throat.

Jack tried to ignore this spark of attraction between them. He busied himself with picking up the rest of the black and red game pieces and tossing them into the box.

Sam similarly tried to play it off silently, giving more attention than necessary to folding up the checkerboard. "Guess you better get to your briefing," she said needlessly, looking down at the box instead of into his eyes.

"Right." He scooted back his chair and stood up. At the door, he paused, turning to look at her one more time before exiting.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam was alone again for the rest of the day, until Daniel showed up at her quarters late in the afternoon.

"Hey, I'm heading to the commissary," he said. "Want me to bring you anything?"

It was dinnertime already. No wonder she was craving food all of a sudden. Jack's visit earlier had wiped any thoughts of food right out of her head, but now that food was mentioned, she realized how hungry she was.

"Can I go with you instead?" she suggested instead. "Janet didn't say I was confined to my quarters, and I think I've gotten more than enough rest today."

"Okay," Daniel agreed to that. He added lightly, "But if she catches us and throws a fit that you're up and about, I'm pointing fingers at you."

Sam laughed. "Deal."

"Are you looking forward to finally getting back home?" he ventured with a smile as they strolled toward the elevator.

Not really, she thought to herself. Aloud, she said, "I will kind of miss being here."

"You'll miss this _building_…or the _people_ in it?" Daniel prodded in a tone that implied he already knew the answer to that.

Sam gave him an obvious look. "Well, the _building_ is the same in this reality as it is in _mine_, so…"

Daniel raised a teasing eyebrow. "Ah, so it's a _person_ you'll miss, huh?"

She threw some of his teasing back at him. "Yes, Daniel…I'll miss you very much."

He laughed at her, punching the button for the elevator. "_Not_ who I was referring to."

Sam sobered. "I know. Yes, I will miss him…a lot," she confessed.

The doors opened and she stepped inside, saying no more about it and glad that Daniel didn't push the issue further.

"So how did the day full of boredom and relaxation work out for you?" Daniel asked, opening another topic.

"It wasn't too bad, actually," Sam answered in honesty.

"Really?" One eyebrow raised at her. "I figured we'd have to tape you to your bed or something to make you rest for a whole day."

Sam chuckled. "Thankfully that wasn't necessary. In fact, I had some company for a while to take my mind off the boredom."

"Rothman stopped by?" Daniel quipped all too innocently, following her out of the now open elevator doors.

"You're funny," Sam responded sarcastically. "Actually…General O'Neill came by."

Daniel looked sideways at her. "Oh, really?" he said, his voice lilting in interest. "Do I want to know where this conversation is going?"

Sam gave him a warning glance. "We played checkers," she informed him in a no-nonsense tone.

"Literally or figuratively?" he prompted impishly.

"Daniel…"

"Alright," he conceded, holding the commissary door for her. "Can't blame a guy for being a romantic at heart, can you?"

Sam walked past him, replying evenly, "For you, I'll make an exception."

"Ooh, ouch," Daniel responded in mock insult.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing two plastic trays and handing him one.

They went quickly through the serving line then sat down at one of the many empty tables in the center of the room.

As they ate their dinner together, Sam made sure to keep the rest of their conversation on neutral territory. Cloaking devices, offworld missions, new artifacts and such.

Anything else might remind her again that she would be going home soon.

She didn't want to think about that.


	14. Chapter 14

General O'Neill was in a good mood this morning.

He whistled an upbeat little tune as he stepped into the elevator and pushed one button.

Two airmen already on the elevator turned their heads to look at him curiously.

The whistling stopped, and Jack raised his eyebrows at their expressions. "Problem?"

"No, sir," they answered in unison, stiffening their backs and staring straight forward once more.

Jack bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smirking.

The elevator doors opened at his destination and he strode through them purposefully, disappearing around a corner.

The door to her quarters was open this time, but he tapped twice on the grey steel just to be sure she wanted company again two days in a row.

"It's open," her voice called from the inside.

Jack poked his head around the doorframe. "Goooood morning, camper."

Sam grinned, pleasantly surprised that he was coming to see her again. "Came to lose another game of checkers, General?" She greeted cheerfully from her spot on the edge of the bed.

"Actually, Major, I brought you a book." He sat next to her on the bed, handing her a somewhat thick hardback with a shiny paper dustcover.

Sam took the book, reading the title. "Wormhole Physics and the Theory of Relativity, by—"

"—By Samantha Carter, Ph-D," Jack finished, obvious pride coloring his voice.

"Wow…I guess I _did_ get around to writing it," Sam murmured, flipping the pages.

"I tried reading it once," Jack admitted with a self-conscious grin. "Got stuck on the first page."

Sam laughed. That sounded about right. "Thank you, sir."

Jack smiled at her, his gaze lingering on her eyes. "It's my day off, Carter. Lose the 'sir'."

* * *

Daniel stood before a wall of stone, scanning through the alien text chiseled into the surface. Idly, he wondered why humans had never taken up the habit of writing history on walls as was apparently the trend with most other races they encountered.

He wondered why the stargates on other planets and moons were always public knowledge among the peoples, kept in the open and never hidden away in secret from society like the one on Earth was.

He also wondered how Sam was faring. She was probably going nuts, cooped up on bedrest for another day. Daniel knew he certainly would have.

He made a mental note to stop by and see her again when he got back to Earth later that day. Meanwhile, he was going to take advantage of this opportunity to videotape some of the text on this stone wall before Major Johnson got bored with the area and decided to move on.

* * * * * *

Remembering that his desktop computer was on the fritz, he plugged his camcorder into his laptop computer to upload the video footage he'd shot earlier.

He looked at the watch on his wrist. Four fifty-two. The day was winding down, and yet he thought there was something he was still forgetting…

Oh that's right—go see Sam.

Daniel left the equipment transferring footage and shut the door of his artifact lab behind him. He took the elevator down to the level below, finding Sam's door easily.

He slowed as he neared it, because the door opened just then and a figure stepped out, shutting the door again.

Daniel looked in surprise at the person standing outside Sam's door. "Jack."

Jack regarded him casually. "Daniel."

Daniel looked at Sam's closed door, then he looked back at Jack strangely. "When you said you'd be taking the day off, I just assumed you meant you'd be…taking the day _off._"

"Assumed wrong," Jack replied simply, stepping past him.

"Jaaack," Daniel said again, drawing out the single syllable in suspicion. "What were you _doing_ in there?"

Jack bristled at the implication in his tone. Not that Daniel was completely off-base, but still…

"Visiting with our guest," Jack responded firmly. "Is it a crime to be interested in the welfare of the injured under my command?"

Daniel still stared at him, an unconvinced smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Whatever you say," he said in a knowing voice.

Jack glared at the younger man, but the glare was wasted as it had no effect at all on Daniel.

"Well, I just came to see how Sam was doing…" he trailed off in typical Daniel fashion, gesturing a thumb in the direction of Sam's door. "But I'm guessing she's probably fine?"

Jack smiled a placating smile. "Yes, she is." And he left Daniel standing there to gaze after him.

* * * * * *

He made the rounds, checking that the base was buttoned-down for the evening and nightshift staff were in place.

Before retiring to his own personal quarters, he made a detour to the base's medical wing.

"Doc," Jack greeted, entering the infirmary. "I've come to check on things. Supplies holding out? Epidemics to report? Snakeheads to surgically remove?"

"Everything's fine, General; thanks for asking."

"Yeahsureyabetcha." His hands went into his pockets. He knew better than to fiddle with any objects in Frasier's domain. Too many needles nearby for her to threaten him with.

Janet smiled to herself, straightening up a supply cart. "How's my patient doing?" she fished conversationally.

But Jack wasn't biting. He looked around the empty beds of the infirmary. "I dunno, Doc. You've got so many of them here that I've lost track."

Janet smirked at the sarcasm—Jack O'Neill's trademark of personal defense. "Well then, I'll narrow it down for you," she answered smoothly, adding a fresh sheet to one stripped bed. "I'm referring to the one who receives a day-long house call from our beloved General on his supposed day off."

"Daniel squeal on me?" Jack asked, his avoidance tactic abandoned.

"I have spies everywhere," she said mysteriously, naming no names. "I hear all, I see all."

Jack humored her. "And what do you see and hear, oh great and powerful Oz?"

Janet became serious. "I can see the effect that her being here has had on you, sir."

"I'm the same as I've always been," Jack answered defensively to the petite but formidable woman before him.

"Oh, I disagree," Janet shook her head. "You've changed _back_ into the person you were _before_," she stressed significantly.

Her voice was gentle as she continued. "I know you feel something for her, General, and personally I think that's a good thing. Just be careful. She's been through a lot, too, and I don't mean in my infirmary."

"And what would you suggest I do?" Jack wanted to know.

"I won't tell you what to do, sir," she denied responsibility, holding her hands up in surrender. "But I will remind you that she is scheduled to go back home in a very short time. Can you honestly say that you are ready for that?"

Jack looked down, disheartened. "Point taken, Doctor." Truth be told, he _hadn't_ realized just how quickly the time had flown. She was going back _tomorrow_, for cryin' out loud!

Of all the stupid, idiotic things he could possibly have done, getting close to her now was the very worst of all. What the hell was he thinking?!

He couldn't face her again. Not now, not when he knew it would be for the last time. He'd had to say a permanent and devastating goodbye to his own Sam before, and he couldn't bring himself to say it again to this other Sam too.

Call him a coward, but he could not stand there and watch Samantha Carter go back through that mirror.


	15. Chapter 15

Sam slept little that night, knowing that was her last night there, but woke the next morning long before her alarm clock went off. Taking advantage of the early hour, she made use of the base's shower and then visited the infirmary to have a fresh dressing applied to her wound.

"Seems to be healing nicely," Dr. Frasier said in approval. "I would have liked to monitor it until it's healed completely, but I guess we can't really hold you hostage here until then, can we?"

Sam attempted a laugh, but it fell short of being convincing. She wasn't anxious to go back home anymore. In fact, she was dreading it.

She'd gotten to know many of the people here—some of whom didn't have counterparts at the SGC in her reality. Some she liked, a few she didn't. And one in particular that she didn't want to say goodbye to again.

"I hear you've been beating the General at checkers lately," Frasier remarked casually, applying bandage tape to the fresh gauze. "Have you two been getting pretty close?"

"I guess you could say so," Sam hedged.

She wasn't exactly sure what this General Jack O'Neill felt for her, but she felt pretty certain that it was at least more than just friendship. He seemed to be a long way away now from the depressed-looking man who'd shown up in her world only a week ago.

"But I heard he was pretty close with the other Sam, too," she added, attempting to deflect the personal questioning.

"That's very true," Janet answered, taking the hint. "I will say that it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone when she finally agreed to go on one of his 'fishing trips' with him."

Sam smiled in remembrance. Her Jack had always threatened to take her on fishing trips, too, although she'd been told there wasn't any actual _fish_ in his pond.

"So you're leaving us today?" Janet asked, even though she already knew the answer to that.

Sam nodded. "At noon."

"Well, I'm sorry to see you go," Janet told her kindly. "We could have really used another Sam Carter around here."

"Thanks," Sam responded, not knowing what else to say to that.

She went back to her quarters for a while, idly passing the time.

She thought that Jack might stop by to see her sometime this morning. He knew she was leaving today, didn't he?

Much as she hated goodbyes, especially when they were said to Jack O'Neill, she didn't want to go without seeing him one more time.

If she was honest with herself, she didn't want to go at all. But nobody had asked her to stay, and she had enough pride not to ask.

The morning hours came and went, and still she didn't see Jack anywhere.

He's busy, she told herself. Planning missions, assigning teams, gaining intel, reading memos.

She laughed at that thought. Jack never read his memos. At least, her Jack didn't. This one might.

Jack... God, she missed him! Not just her own Jack anymore, but this one too.

She did _not_ want to go _home_! It just wasn't fair.

Miserable, she left her guest quarters to go topside for some fresh air. Once outside, she breathed deeply, filling her lungs and clearing her mind.

She could do it, she told herself. She _had_ to do it—she belonged there, not here.

It just wouldn't be easy to leave him behind…

The sun was almost directly overhead. Sam looked at the watch on her wrist. The time was getting closer; she should go back inside and get ready.

Her stomach growled at her, protesting its empty state, so she stopped in the commissary for a small snack.

The blue jell-o looked good, so she grabbed a cup and found an empty table in the far corner of the commissary.

A shadow fell over her table, but she didn't look up to see who it was.

"Hey," A friendly voice interrupted her thoughts.

Of course that's who it was. "Hi, Daniel."

"Mind if I join you?"

She smiled, though she didn't feel like it. "Not at all."

"Where's Jack?" Daniel questioned, pulling out a chair across from her and sitting down. "Hasn't he been glued to your side for the past three days?"

"Two days," she corrected lightly. "And he hasn't been glued to my side; he did have a briefing the other day without me."

Daniel chuckled at that, poking a forkful of pie into his mouth. "Have you seen him at all today?" he asked after swallowing.

"Actually, I haven't. I thought he'd at least want to see me off at noon when I go back home, but I guess not…"

Daniel was quiet, his eyebrows kinked in thought.

"He's okay though, right?" Sam asked in mild concern, seeing the look on Daniel's face.

"I hope so," Daniel answered honestly. He hurriedly finished up his pie and scooted back his chair. "I have to go take care of something. I'll see you again before you leave."

He grabbed a square of frosted cake and a clean fork from the dessert counter, and then he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

"There's cake in the commissary." Daniel knew it was a weak offering, but he had no other props on-hand to lead with. "Brought you a piece."

Jack looked at the frosted square on the paper plate as Daniel placed it on his desk. He usually loved cake, but right now he didn't have an appetite for anything. "Thanks," he said dully.

"Jack, what's going on with you?" Daniel asked, genuinely concerned. "You've been attached to Sam's side for the past two days, and now all of a sudden you're completely avoiding her again."

"I don't want her to go," he confessed quietly, meeting Daniel's eyes. "I know she's not the same Carter that I lost…she's different…but she's still Sam. And I just can't watch her leave."

Daniel did not look surprised.

Jack stared at him in realization. "You knew this would happen."

"Yes, I'll admit, I did think about the _possibility_…but you cannot blame it all on me. _I'm_ not the one in love with her, Jack!"

Jack grimaced. Damn Carter and her damned…Carter-ness!

And damn himself for falling for her again.

"Why don't you ask her to stay?" Daniel suggested, dead serious.

"Daniel…"

"What? What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could say no!" Jack growled.

"Or she could say yes!" Daniel shouted back, standing his ground. "But she won't say anything if you don't at least _ask her._"

"And what if she does stay?" Jack demanded. "What then? Do I lose her again?" His voice cracked. "I can't do that a second time."

"Who says you have to?" Daniel wanted to know.

"Look what happened on the Beta Site!"

Daniel was calmer. "Yes, look what happened. Sam survived. And guess what else, Jack? _She_ lost someone too! Someone who meant the world to her, in _her_ reality. She lost _you_."

That got Jack's attention. He knew the Jack O'Neill in this other Sam's world was dead, but that was pretty much all he knew about it. "What do you mean?"

Daniel still faced him head-on. "You know that you're dead in her reality, right?"

"Creepy way to put it, but yeah."

"Do you know why?"

"I didn't think it was necessary to ask!"

"A drunk driver," Daniel stated simply. "On Earth. On the night of their first and only date together."

Oh, crap.

"He didn't even get to go out in a blaze of glory saving the world like our Sam did. He was just _gone_. And she had to go on living, just like you did."

Jack was silent. It tore at him, knowing that this Sam—or any Sam Carter, in fact—had been put through the kind of pain and loss that he'd endured.

Daniel stared at his dejected friend a moment longer before moving toward the door to leave. "Ask her to stay," he repeated one more time, quietly but firmly. "Maybe the two of you can finally heal together."

* * * * * *

He was having a heart attack. At least, that's what he thought it felt like. Squeezing, burning pain in his chest, his head, his stomach.

He pressed a hand to his chest, willing the pounding to stop. He took a breath but it hitched in his throat, making him cough.

Jack inhaled again, slower, getting proper air that time.

His head was swimming.

On impulse he opened the top drawer of his desk, and from underneath everything else he pulled a single bent and dog-eared photograph.

He fingered the photo lovingly. Sam's happy face beamed out from beside his own, and although the picture was a bit crooked—a hazard of pointing the camera at himself and Sam from arm's length—Jack adored that shot.

Samantha Carter had been one in a million. Brilliant and beautiful, she had stolen his heart the minute she'd spouted science at him during their very first briefing together.

She was his equal, but superior in every way. The first time she accepted his fishing invitation, he'd thought she was joking. But when she actually showed up at his cabin, fishing pole in hand, he knew he'd finally won over the love of his life.

The grief came in a sudden wave of nausea now, blurring his vision and bending him double over the wastebasket where he emptied the meager contents of his stomach.

He heaved until there was nothing left, and with shaking hands he uncapped a nearby bottle of water to rinse the bile from his throat. His unsteady gaze drifted to the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes to his impending emotional demise.

There were still three minutes to go before it would hit twelve o'clock.

Jack held his breath, watching the second hand tick away. All of a sudden he bolted from his chair, sending it flying into the wall on its casters.

They were right…Daniel, Frasier—all of them.

Jack O'Neill needed Samantha Carter.

That was all that mattered.


	17. Chapter 17

Daniel turned on the quantum mirror, finding Sam's reality within just a few turns of the selector on the remote device. As promised, the other Daniel from her world stood waiting for her on the other side.

"Home, sweet home," this Daniel said quietly, giving Sam a half-hearted smile.

"Right," Sam answered without emotion. Home.

But what exactly was there for her to go home to? No family, few friends, an empty house she rarely ever slept in anymore.

It was ironic—she'd risked her life to save her Earth innumerable times…and now she didn't even want to go back to it.

As she stood there hesitantly, she felt a hand take hold of her arm. Gentle, calloused, familiar. She hadn't heard him enter the room, but there he was now. That made it all the much harder.

"Carter."

She turned to look at him, pained at the thought of being separated yet again.

"Sir?"

He looked down, avoiding her eyes. If he looked into those beautiful blue eyes and bared his soul and she still denied him, he would break. "Do you think that…maybe…you could be happy here?"

Her heart leapt into her throat. Was he asking her to stay?

Her fingers lifted to touch his cheek, slowly…tentatively. Oh, how she loved that face.

At the first caress, Jack's resolve melted. His head came up and his eyes burned into hers.

"This isn't my world," Sam answered him softly, a reminder to herself just as much as to him. "You're not my Jack."

He swallowed, his throat horribly dry. "You're not my Sam, either," he agreed. "If you were, we wouldn't be standing here in front of two Daniels having this conversation."

Her brow creased, the threat of tears stinging at her eyes. Damn it, she didn't want to cry.

"Stay here." He leaned in, cupping her cheek with his free hand, mirroring her stance. His voice lowered intimately. "Stay with _me_."

One tear escaped, and dripped down her cheek. "Tell me why," she requested almost in a whisper.

He didn't say 'Because I love you'. He didn't know _this_ Sam well enough just yet to say it to her right now and truly mean it.

Instead, he said, "Because Jack O'Neill can't live without Samantha Carter. Not in any world…and sure as hell not in mine."

His other hand still on her arm slid down to join with her hand. He spoke openly, raw and truthful. "Because if you go through that mirror right now," he said with a tender smile. "I'm either going to follow you…or die of another broken heart."

Sam couldn't help the tiny laugh that escaped her throat. This was too surreal…almost insane. What was it that her Daniel had said to her only a week ago?

_A second chance_, his voice echoed gently in her ears.

Sniffling back her tears, she searched Jack's warm, honest eyes for a long moment. Soft brown shone back at her, a mixture of hope and resignation, of pain and promise.

This wasn't the same man she'd fallen in love with, but he was still Jack O'Neill in every way, shape and form.

Her decision was made. She took a deep breath, and turned back to the quantum mirror.

On the other side of the mirror, Daniel watched with anticipation as Sam raised one hand to the device that would return her to her own world.

But as Sam's fingers neared the surface of the quantum mirror, they stopped. Hesitated for the briefest second. And then waved goodbye at him.

And in that moment, Daniel realized he was losing another one of his best friends. Not to death this time, but to life. He would miss her terribly, but he would be happy for her. For both of them.

"Is there a problem, Dr. Jackson?" Hammond questioned, coming to stand by his side.

"Yeah," he answered softly. "She's not coming back."

General Hammond didn't ask why; he could see the reason clearly in the mirror just as Daniel could.

Daniel inhaled deeply, letting the breath out with a sigh. "Well, at least she'll be happy." He lifted a hand to wave goodbye to Sam, the smile on his face showing her that he understood.

"Take care of her, Jack," he whispered, turning off the mirror.


	18. Epilogue

She put the finishing touch on her portable cloaking device, then strapped it to her wrist and pushed a button. To make sure the cloak worked, she checked herself in a mirror.

Perfect.

Silently, stealthily, she moved across floors, through doorways, and up stairs. The door to his office was open, aiding her sneak attack.

There he sat, his chin propped up on his hand and eyes glazed over as he read yet another unexciting mission report.

She waved a hand at him from the doorway, just to be sure. But he didn't see her; she was invisible.

She tiptoed into the room, avoiding the spot on the floor that always squeaked. She stopped directly behind his chair, thankful that the back of it wasn't very tall.

She reached two hands slowly toward the back of his neck, picturing in her mind how he'd likely react to the surprise.

Her fingers were just about to touch him when both of her wrists were seized in iron grips.

"Gotcha."

Caught, Sam resisted the urge to stamp her foot. "How'd you know I was here?"

Jack smiled to himself, loosening his grip but not completely letting go. "I'd know you anywhere," he said simply.

Her wrists slid from his grasp as Sam wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, giving him a brief squeeze of affection.

Jack ran his hands across her invisible arms, one hand encountering something bulky velcroed to her wrist. "That your new toy?"

"Yep." Her other hand shifted away from his chest as she deactivated her cloak.

"Much better," Jack said in approval as she became visible. "Hey, how come I didn't go invisible when you touched me? Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

Sam straightened her spine, her arms leaving his shoulders. "It would, except this is _my_ cloak." She pulled a second wristband from her pocket and handed it to him. "That one's yours."

"Sweet." He strapped it on, grinning. "How's it work?"

She came around his chair to perch on the edge of his desk next to his knees, folding her arms across her chest. "There are only two buttons, Jack…I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Jack leaned back in his chair comfortably, looking up at Sam with unrestrained affection in his eyes. "I've got something for you, too. If you want it, that is."

Ooh, gifts. Sam held out one hand expectantly. "Give."

He just laughed. "Move your six," he said, leaning forward to give her hip a playful swat.

She slid over slightly, and Jack opened the center drawer of his desk and pulled out a small black velvet-covered box.

He didn't voice the overused and often clichéd 'will you marry me' line. He simply set the unopened box on the desk next to Sam, and prayed she wouldn't reject it.

Oh, my…one of those. Sam picked it up, opened the box and stared at the ring, her throat going dry. But she only knew one answer to give him.

"Do I have to put it on myself?" she asked meekly.

Jack grinned again, relieved beyond words. "Course not." He pulled the ring out, chucked the empty box over his shoulder, and reached for Sam's left hand.

She gave it willingly, and he slid the cool metal over her knuckle.

Jack's fingers linked with hers and tugged gently, a silent invitation to sit down on his lap. A good idea, because Sam's knees were suddenly a bit weak.

He breathed a deeply contented sigh, his arms wrapping around her waist as he looked up at her happily.

Jack knew for sure now that he loved this woman, and not simply because her name was Samantha Carter.

It was the differences that made him sure. For instance, this Sam was relatively new to the whole relationship thing, and therefore still struggling to call him 'Jack' more, and 'Sir' less.

This Sam was still a bit awkward with showing affection in public…far more so than the first Sam had been. Thankfully she wasn't one bit shy about it in private.

And perhaps the biggest difference…this Sam wasn't all that concerned with upholding the military regulations that should have kept them apart. Because this Sam chose to believe that those regs really didn't apply anymore once the boundaries of different realities had been crossed.

After all, how do you court-martial someone who, according to this reality, was legally deceased?

This Sam was also currently looking at him with love in her eyes, leaning into his shoulder with one arm hooked behind his neck. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly, her other hand resting on his cheek with her thumb slowly caressing his jawline.

"Just that I'm glad you stayed," he responded in words that were terribly understated.

"Yeah? Me, too." She leaned in for a sweet kiss, and Jack didn't disappoint.

Yep, he was definitely in love with this woman.

With her death, the first Sam had broken his heart. And with her life, the second one had put it back together.

The End


End file.
